


No Closure

by Electra_XT



Series: Close Encounters [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Clubbing, Identity Porn, Light Verbal Humiliation, M/M, Pining, Sibling Incest, one-night stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra_XT/pseuds/Electra_XT
Summary: Five stared back at him. His heart was pounding. Diego didn’t recognize him, he realized. Too many years of absence— he could get as close as he wanted, and Diego still wouldn’t know him. The opportunity unfolded in front of him like a flower, and he felt a rush of adrenaline.Keep an eye on him, Number Five. Reconnaissance.He raised an eyebrow. He made sure Diego could see the way Five’s eyes swept over his whole body, unrepentant, taking in every gorgeous inch of him, finally lingering on his lips, and then he shrugged.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves, brief Diego Hargreeves/OFC
Series: Close Encounters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834303
Comments: 28
Kudos: 214





	No Closure

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this [umbrellakink prompt!](https://umbrellakink.dreamwidth.org/284.html?thread=964124)
> 
> This is sort of an AU where Five is in his twenties when the Handler picks him up, and he and Diego are both the same age here. CNTW because gray-area dubious consent— Diego is very much into Five, but doesn't know his real identity.
> 
> Title from “ST. PERCY” by Brockhampton.

It had been a long time since Five had gone anywhere without his gun.

Check in on them. The Handler had given him the easiest and most singularly terrible mission, and it wasn’t even lethal. Five could kill six men without blinking. Ten without flinching. He’d washed blood off his hands in industrial sinks, he’d pressed a thumb unfeelingly to a man’s eyeball to see if he’d twitch, and he’d slipped a bomb stomach-turningly silently into a crowded room and warped away to safety, but he stood right now in a popping nightclub in New York City, and he didn’t even have his gun.

 _You won’t need any weapons,_ the Handler had told him. She’d smiled indulgently in exactly the way he’d told her not to and reached out to cup his jaw. _Let loose a little, Number Five, it’s reconnaissance. Relax. Hang out with people your own age._

 _Who am I looking for?_ Five had asked, hating the way he’d had to look up into her eyes.

_You’ll know._

Five knew. It hit him in a swoop to his chest even as he warped away from her, landing with a jolt in the dark, crowded club. The trap beat rolled through the floor and up the walls, seismic through the moving bodies. He could feel the bass in his teeth.

He was looking for one of his siblings, and he knew this, and he told himself that that made it better.

This was probably Allison’s scene. Maybe Klaus. Five remembered them getting ready to go out together in the bathroom on the hallway— _oh my GOD you look HILARIOUS Klaus you are SO—_ It made sense. He could get in and get out. Five shook himself and squinted out onto the dance floor, looking for the familiar silhouettes, but the lights and shadows and strobes and sounds were making him go woozy. There was a girl wearing white plastic high heels that seemed to flash, reflecting the muted colors of the lights. Five’s gaze traveled up her long legs, feeling something inside him start to stir— it had been a long time since he’d felt this, but he wasn’t made of stone. And the Handler’s underhanded advances were one thing, but…

His eyes landed on the curve of the girl’s ass in her tight skirt, and then he saw the hand splayed across her lower back. His gaze traveled up the person’s arm, the tan bicep exposed, that jaw, the scar that shone pale in the dim, changing light.

Five was seized suddenly with the urge to kick the girl’s feet out from under her.

The song shifted, one beat fading into the next like a tide. Someone whooped. The girl pressed herself closer to Diego, staggering a little in her platform heels, and Diego caught her effortlessly. She giggled. Diego said something in her ear and they shifted out of view, obscured by another wave of people. Five looked away.

If he were on his own, he would have disappeared by now, but the Handler had told him to pursue. It felt obtrusive enough to be here in this strange pulsing nightclub world he didn’t recognize, but the fact of seeing Diego felt even more rancid in his stomach. How often did Diego come here? Five’s memory of Diego was stuck in time as a sweet twelve-year-old with big eyes and a mouth that got him in trouble. He’d missed every stage of the transformation, and he went rigid as Diego and the girl came back into view. His stomach clenched as he saw the way the front of her skirt was hitched up— he was _fingering_ her, Diego had his hand inside her, she was probably wet, Diego’s fingers were slipping through it right now, rubbing at her clit— the girl twitched, her mouth opening in a sigh that immediately dissolved in the music, and she wrapped her arms around Diego’s neck.

She could come like this. Five knew it in his bones. He turned away, feeling deaf in the pounding club, intensely claustrophobic and dizzy with the infinity of people. If she wanted that— if in this moment, pressed against Diego, his dick hard and rubbing against her in those tight jeans, she wanted to let him coax an orgasm out of her and make her shudder better than any party drug in full view of an anonymous crowd, she could do that.

He teleported to the bar, the blue warp negligible in the dim club, and leaned against the wall. There was no air in this room, but he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, because it was so fucking unseemly to fall apart here. He’d performed complex assassinations without blinking an eye; he could handle a club. Even one with his brother in it. Then his gaze strayed to the dance floor—

Diego looked up and met Five’s eye.

Five’s blood ran cold. He stood frozen, unable to look away. Diego’s mouth curved into a little smile, and he raised his eyebrows.

Five stared back at him. His heart was pounding. Diego didn’t recognize him, he realized. Too many years of absence— he could get as close as he wanted, and Diego still wouldn’t know him. The opportunity unfolded in front of him like a flower, and he felt a rush of adrenaline.

_Keep an eye on him, Number Five. Reconnaissance._

He raised an eyebrow. He made sure Diego could see the way Five’s eyes swept over his whole body, unrepentant, taking in every gorgeous inch of him, finally lingering on his lips, and then he shrugged.

Diego’s gaze hardened. He settled his hand over the small of the girl’s back. Then he ground up against her with intention, still looking at him. Five bit his lip. Diego smiled, looking entirely too much like a predator.

Five turned around, knowing full well that Diego could see him do it. He could feel Diego’s eyes burning into his back and he headed for the alley outside, vision was pulsing with anxiety and excitement, the lurching knowledge that _something_ was going to happen. He needed a damn cigarette.

Five didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified when the door opened and he heard footsteps. Instead, he compromised for staring straight ahead with his cigarette balanced between his fingers and pretending not to notice as Diego sidled up next to him and leaned against the wall.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” Diego said.

“Well,” Five said, looking out across the alley, “I’ve never been here before.”

“You’re pretty cute,” Diego said.

“I don’t like being called that,” Five said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Try again.”

The Handler was fond of pinching his cheeks. At a certain point, he’d started pulling his gun on her for it.

“Damn, all right,” Diego said. “I was going to offer to pin you against that wall and make out with you, but if you’re gonna have a stick up your ass about it, I’ll leave you alone.”

Five looked over at him, giving him a long once-over. He’d never seen Diego in club-wear before. He looked like the picture of temptation, draped in a thin tank top that clung and skimmed in all the right places and black jeans that fit him like they were made for him. The contours of his muscles stood out perfectly in the soft shadows of the club lighting. And his face… he was gorgeous, and Five had to admit this as an objective fact.

“Only making out?” he said. “Pity. I’d have expected more from you.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Diego said.

“You look like a slut,” Five said matter-of-factly.

Diego drew back.

Five took another drag of his cigarette. His hand at his side was shaking, and he clenched it in a fist. This was too much. It was— he was keeping an eye on him, but Diego was a magnet, he couldn’t keep a goddamn safe distance without being pulled in. He could feel Diego’s eyes on him, big and dark, real Bambi eyes, the kind of eyes that everyone told Five he had himself. 

If he wanted to, he could yank himself away.

Diego was looking at him.

“Did she come?” Five asked conversationally, looking out at the wall across the alley.

“That’s what you’re talking about?” Diego said, starting to grin. “What do you think, man? She was so into it. Barely wearing any underwear, too.”

“Barely?” Five said.

“Little bitty thong,” Diego said, pinching his fingers together. “Mostly lace.”

“As I said, you’re a slut,” Five said.

“Hold up,” Diego said. “I’m not the one who was wearing the lace thong.”

“You’re the one who was pushing it to the side so you could finger her,” Five said. “Getting it all wet.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Diego said, shaking his head. “What, you wish you were out there getting some?”

Five took another drag. There was exceedingly little of the cigarette left. “No.”

Diego snorted. “Yeah, you do. You know, if you got your ass off this wall and went in to dance, you might pull someone.”

“Might?” Five said.

“What do you want me to say?” Diego said. “Fuckin’ voyeur. You’re hovering over here watching me like a stalker because you’re too much of a pussy to go in for it.”

“You’re a real charmer,” Five said.

“Thought I was a slut,” Diego said.

“And he’s finally admitting it,” Five said, stubbing his cigarette out against the wall. “How proud I am of—”

Diego grabbed him. His fingers circled tightly around Five’s wrist and Five stared down for a moment, breath caught.

“What?” Five said.

“We’re gonna dance,” Diego said.

“That’s not necessary,” Five said.

“Yeah, it is,” Diego said. His grip was tight on Five’s wrist. “That’s the cure for being horny and repressed.”

“Not the only cure,” Five said breathlessly.

Diego raised his eyebrows.

Five moved in. He suspected he’d been past the point of no return for a while now. Diego’s eyes were dark and liquid, and Five’s stomach flipped— he could do this. No one would notice if he indulged and disappeared.

“Take me home,” he said.

Five was latched onto Diego’s back and kissing Diego’s neck from behind him when they arrived Diego's boiler room. “Fuck,” Diego said, out of breath, fumbling in his pocket at the door. “Baby, you’re— move your leg, let me get my keys.”

Five tightened his legs around Diego’s torso, clinging to his back. “Thought you were some kind of stud,” he said. “You can’t even get into your apartment?”

“Fuck off,” Diego said, “I am a stud, I’ve just got a slutty limpet on my back.” He fished his keys out, sticking it in the doorknob and turning. 

Five bit Diego’s neck as he carried him inside. “Are you going to fuck me?” he said.

“I’ll do what I want,” Diego said.

“How touching,” Five said. “Generous of you.”

“Mouthy ass,” Diego said, prying Five off his back and tossing him to the bed. He shucked off his shirt and threw it over his shoulder, crawling up on the bed over Five. “You deserve to get fucked, you know that?”

“What a coincidence,” Five said breathlessly, running his hand up Diego’s abs. “It’s almost like that’s why I came here.”

“Yeah, but a bratty little shit like you deserves to get _fucked,”_ Diego said, settling back and undoing his belt. Five bit his lip. It was almost unbearably hot. “Hands and knees, baby.”

“What are you going to do, spank me?” Five said, smirking.

“You’d have it coming,” Diego said.

“I don’t do punishment,” Five said. “Sorry.”

“Yeah?” Diego said, hands faltering on his belt.

“But,” Five said, “I will allow you to fuck me as hard as you want.” He hooked his leg around Diego and towed him in. “I’m nice like that.”

“Fucker, you are not,” Diego said. “You want me to fuck you hard because you’re desperate for this dick, yeah, I can see it written all over you, don’t lie to me. Sweetheart, you don’t want to be punished.” He leaned over him, coming in close. 

Five inhaled sharply. “Enlighten me. What do I want?”

“You want to be spoiled,” Diego said. “And for you, that means no fucking mercy. _I will allow you to fuck me,_ bullshit. You wanna get filled up on my cock, take every single inch of it—”

“My God, do you have some sort of complex about the size of your dick?” Five said.

“What you want,” Diego said, “is someone who’ll call you out on your bullshit.”

Five stopped. Diego had always been able to pinpoint what he was thinking, as accurately as he threw his knives. He was struck by the uncanny and deeply inappropriate feeling of being twelve again.

“One stipulation,” he said softly.

“Yeah?” Diego said, drawing back.

Five reached for him. He wrapped his fingers around Diego’s wrist, a facsimile of the earlier gesture, and he looked up into his eyes. “No questions,” he said. “No names. No life stories.” 

Diego nodded. Five could see him internalizing the pact, a flash of something like disappointment on his face before he resolved himself. Then he nodded again.

“No questions,” he said. He smiled crookedly. “Get naked.”

They made quick work of their clothes. Five couldn’t pretend to be unaffected by Diego’s body, the sculpted curves of his muscles, and he shivered under the heat of Diego’s gaze. Diego kissed messily down his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt, mouth moving with no intention of romance, and Five gasped as he got manhandled, clothes tugged off roughly under Diego’s capable hands.

“What’s this?” Diego said, pausing at the tight black band covering the tattoo on Five’s wrist.

“No questions,” Five said, heart tripping. “You promised.”

Diego seemed like he was going to say something else, and Five looked at him quellingly. “Weren’t you going to shove me onto my hands and knees and fuck me like the warm, convenient toy I am?”

“Damn,” Diego said. “Was I?”

“I’m a slut,” Five said. He needed to keep Diego thinking with his dick if he wanted to distract him. The evidence of his identity was all so close to the surface when he was like this— his skin felt thin, like he was this close to bleeding everything out.

“You really are,” Diego said, leaning back. “The mouth on you. You ever thought of working one of those phone sex hotlines?”

“Distinctly no,” Five said. “And my faith in you drains away every minute you don’t shove me down on the bed.”

Diego lunged. Five hid his grin as Diego tackled him down, hitting the mattress on all fours. He heard a sound behind him, a shifting, like Diego was reaching down off the bed for something, and then a click.

He turned his head. Diego sat on his heels, squeezing lube into his hand, and he grinned when he saw Five watching him. “You look good like this,” he said.

Five rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“See, you keep saying you don’t want punishment, but then you say all this bratty shit and it makes me think you kinda do,” Diego said, shifting forward. Five twitched as Diego pressed one slick finger inside him. “So get your story straight, babe.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” Five said breathily. “I made myself clear already. Fuck me as fast and hard as you want, I’ll let you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, how needy are you?” Diego said, running his hand along the curve of Five’s ass. Five kind of loved and hated it at the same time. “Yeah, honey, I’ll give you this dick.”

“Jesus, you can’t stop touching my ass, can you?” Five said.

Diego squeezed it. “I like it.”

“What are you, a caveman?” Five said. “Have to— keep a hand on your catch at any given time? What next, are you going to pull out so you can come on my face?”

“I’d come on your face if I had you on your knees sucking my dick,” Diego said.

“Flattering,” Five said.

Diego smacked his ass. Five let out an undignified yelp. “Aw, kitten,” Diego said, “did that hurt?”

 _“Kitten?”_ Five said. He could hear the smile in Diego’s voice. His cheeks were hot, and he realized with a rush of shame and arousal that the head of his dick was wet with precome. “You’ve got to be shitting me. I want another finger.”

“I said what I said,” Diego said, sounding insufferably amused. “And you don’t get another finger until you beg.”

“You don’t get to hear me beg until you swear you’ll never call me kitten again,” Five said. He hated the way his body reacted to Diego’s pet names; the twitch of his dick, the minute shivers through his whole body, like Diego’s words were stones dropping into a pond and sending ripples to the shore. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for this,” Diego said, and he pushed another finger in and—

Five sank down hard, elbows hitting the mattress as Diego’s fingers found his prostate. “Fuck,” he said, voice strained. His face was practically mashed in the pillow and he gasped, rocking back on Diego’s hand. “You fucking— don’t stop.”

“What?” Diego said, pausing. “You tell me to stop?”

“No,” Five choked out. “Give me— you know what I want.”

“You want my dick,” Diego said, pushing his fingers back in. He didn’t phrase it as a question. “Yeah, princess, you do.”

 _“Princess is worse than kitten,”_ Five gritted out, hips gyrating of their own accord.

“I got more,” Diego said. His hand came up to squeeze Five’s ass again, rubbing over it proprietarily. “Precious.” He smacked him. “Pretty thing.” Another smack. “Sweetheart.”

Five moaned. “If you tease me, I’ll— don’t underestimate me, you won’t be the first to— do that and regret it.”

“Except I kinda wanna try underestimating you,” Diego said.

“You’re a jackass,” Five said. He was trembling. “Go ahead and, ah, fuck me already if you want to so bad.”

Diego slipped in a third finger. “I don’t wanna leave you sore in the morning.”

“Right, of course, I forgot,” Five said. “You’re going to slam into me with your impressive dick, I don’t—”

His cock twitched. Diego chuckled, working his fingers in and out. “I don’t overhype myself, baby,” he said. “I give you exactly what I promise.”

“Then give it,” Five said. He rocked himself back and forth, excruciatingly desperate. “Give me— don’t hold back, it’s not fucking fair.”

“Hmm,” Diego said. He curled his fingers, making Five whimper as they pressed unerringly against his prostate. “I can’t decide if that counts as begging.”

“It does,” Five said.

“Not your decision, princess.”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” Five said. There was a whine in his voice, and his toes curled. “What do you want me to do? I want it, I told you, I begged, fuck me, take my ass, what do you want me to say?”

“Christ, you’re hot," Diego said, pulling his fingers out. Five shuddered. "Been a while since I went for the cute twink type.”

“This isn’t your usual?” Five said, breathless as he listened to Diego slick up his cock. “You don’t— typically like them like me?”

“Nah, my type’s bigger guys,” Diego said. “Jacked and all that, who can—” He cleared his throat. 

Like Luther, Five thought, smiling wryly into the pillow. “Who can what?”

“Nothing,” Diego said quickly. “Consider yourself special. I wanted your skinny ass for once, sue me.”

“If you want it so badly, you could just— _fuck,”_ Five said, eyes flying open as he felt Diego push into him. He clenched, refusing to let Diego sense how thick the intrusion felt inside him.

“There we go,” Diego said. Five was gratified to hear the strain in his voice. “Fuck, you’re— feel perfect, sweetheart.”

“You can move,” Five said. He arched his back.

“So fucking tight,” Diego said, and he began to move, thrusting in and out. Five whimpered. He couldn’t see him, could only feel him, and he closed his eyes, submitting entirely to sensation. He wanted Diego to split him open. He wanted to dissolve.

“You got quiet,” Diego said. He slapped his ass again. “Hey. You good?”

“Keep going or else,” Five said, turning an irate eye to him.

Diego laughed. “Not so cocky anymore, huh?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Five said, “you can— ah— massage your ego with that. Getting me speechless.”

If only the Handler could see him now. If only he could see himself. He was sure he looked debauched, face in the pillow, his goddamn ass in the air, getting pounded into the mattress. The bed was squeaking.

“You close?” Diego said.

“You’re pounding my fucking prostate,” Five said tightly. “What do you think?”

“I want an answer,” Diego said.

“Yeah,” Five gasped. He curled his hands into fists. “Come on, just— give it, take it from me.”

“Interesting how those mean the same thing,” Diego said. He undulated his hips, adjusting the angle, and Five made a needy sound, picturing the way Diego must have looked from the back.

“Fucking let me come,” Five said. He whined. “Don’t tease, don’t tease.”

He’d never been this abjectly desperate in his life. There was nothing in his mind but Diego, no mission, no apocalypse, and the pillow was soft against his face. He felt raw, open; he blinked, finding tears on his face. Diego’s hand came to wrap around his dick, callused and warm and sure.

“Come for me, honey,” Diego said. “I know you need it. Let go, sweetheart—”

 _“Nnnh,”_ Five choked, unable to form coherent words, and then he was coming, feeling the wave rise and then crash, immersing him in feeling— every muscle going rigid, everything narrowing to a point— and he spilled over Diego’s hand, body trembling. Diego was still fucking him, and his breath hitched with every thrust. “Fuck, you’re— I—”

“I got you,” Diego said. He was rubbing his back. “You did so good, feel so— fucking perfect, still do.”

Five looked back at him. Usually, the sweetness would have irritated him, but it felt welcome. He didn’t want to examine that. “Come inside me,” he said, feeling reckless. It wasn’t like anybody else was going to. “You probably get off on that, right? Filling me with your come? Not just stretching me out with your dick, but…?”

Diego groaned. “You’re shameless,” he said roughly, bracing his hand on Five’s shoulder. “Bet you get off on taking it, and you’re trying to reverse-psychology me into thinking it was my idea, fuck—”

His hand tightened on Five’s shoulder. His hips jerked and Five buried his face in the pillow, panting as Diego came, still dizzy and coming down from his own orgasm. Everything felt hazy. He was so many layers removed from the suave special ops time agent in the tailored suit.

“Fuck,” Diego said, drawing out of Five carefully. He dropped down on the mattress next to him.

Five slumped down, rolling over so he was lying on his back. “Jesus.”

Diego looked over at him with a loopy smile. “You had such a stick up your ass at the beginning of the night, too.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Five said, smiling up at the ceiling.

“Whore,” Diego said.

“Slut,” Five said.

“Okay, come here,” Diego said, and he pulled Five in, wrapping his arms around him. He pressed a kiss into Five’s hair. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Let go of me,” Five said, making no move to escape. “What are you trying to do, cuddle?”

“If you don’t talk about it,” Diego said, lips moving against Five’s head, “we don’t have to think about it.”

Five closed his eyes. He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t think. Anything in this moment would expose him, and Diego was warm, his chest rising and falling with his breaths. The mattress, despite the fact that it was a shitty box spring on the ground, was the perfect level of firm. “You’re going to make me fall asleep,” he said.

“You can if you want,” Diego said. “I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.”

Five turned his cheek into his chest. “I have to go soon,” he mumbled. “Give me half an hour. Want to close my eyes.”

“Yeah, honey,” Diego said quietly. He tangled his hand in Five’s hair and massaged his scalp, and Five gave in, melting into him. “I’ll be here all night.”

“I want to see you again,” Diego murmured.

Five blinked. The boiler room was dark, and he found himself entangled in Diego, all warmth and sweaty limbs. His cheek was stuck to Diego’s pectoral, which he probably should have found gross. Instead, he never wanted to move again.

“You told me to wake you up after half an hour,” Diego said softly. “Said you had to go.”

“Yeah,” Five said. It came out hoarse.

“So when can I see you again?” Diego said.

Five rolled off him. Diego sat up, stretching, and Five looked back at him, casting a look at the beautiful contours of his torso in the dim light.

“I know you liked it,” Diego said.

Five rubbed his eyes. “It isn’t that simple.”

“What?” Diego said. “You have a girlfriend, man? A boyfriend?”

“I don’t live around here,” Five said. He smiled humorlessly, an acerbic little joke for himself. “I’m here on business.”

“You some hotshot banker or something?” Diego said. He cast an eye at Five’s suit pooled on the floor.

“No,” Five said.

Diego raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Five said. “I’m not some hotshot banker.”

He was aware that he was being a dick. He could feel himself beginning to withdraw, forcing himself to swim back to the surface, detaching from the cocoon of this moment, and he didn’t want to.

Diego shook his head. “If you want me,” he said, “my name’s Diego. Hargreeves. Call up Fighting Line Boxing, they’ll know how to reach me. I know you said— no names, no anything, but—”

He rolled over, grabbing a pen from the bedside table and tearing off a piece of a napkin to write on. Five felt a strange ache. How long had it been since he’d last seen Diego’s scrawl?

“Here,” Diego said, holding it out to him. “The number. You don’t have to look it up.”

Five smiled a little. “Might save that for when I’m wearing clothes.”

“Yeah,” Diego said. “Put it in your pocket.”

“Yeah,” Five said softly.

Something in Diego’s face closed. Five turned away and slipped off the bed, gathering his clothes from the floor and slipping into his underwear, into his slacks. He made a face. He was going to have to shower. He slid his shirt on, buttoning it up, and then he tied his tie, relying on muscle memory rather than a mirror.

“I don’t usually go for the twink type anyway,” Diego said.

Five’s hands stilled on his tie.

“Like I said, I usually only pick up chicks and guys who are all muscles,” Diego said. “You’re not my type at all.”

“So the bar is lower for women?” Five said. He didn’t know why he was asking.

“It’s whatever,” Diego said. Five slid his blazer on. “You forgot your— this.”

Five turned. Diego had the scrap of napkin in his hand, fluttering between his fingers.

“Oh,” Five said. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

He took it from Diego. As light as it was, it felt like it was burning a hole in the pocket of Five’s slacks. The Handler would want this, he realized in a different compartment of his mind. Tracking data.

“You don’t have to pretend to want this again,” Diego said. “Not for my sake. I get it, I can take it. So even if you do come back to the city, you don’t have to bother. You probably don’t even want to come back—”

Five reached out a hand. He touched Diego’s face, feeling his smooth cheek; the stubble on his jaw. Diego’s eyes widened minutely. Five shook his head.

“I wish I could,” he said, and he warped out of the timeline.

**Author's Note:**

> [electra-xt](https://electra-xt.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, taking prompts, come talk to me about TUA!


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